


Closing Up the Paper Lantern

by AniseNalci



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniseNalci/pseuds/AniseNalci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Chan refused to take a relationship where the girl hung out more with the boy over her own boyfriend (who was also supposedly her best friend) seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing Up the Paper Lantern

Usually, Mrs. Chan didn't care who came into the restaurant, but if they sat down, they'd have to pay. That was her rule.

Another unofficial rule was that the restaurant should be cleared by closing time so that she could go back and rest with her husband. This was equally – if not more – important than the former rule, especially since Mr. Chan could be ridiculously cantankerous if he did not have his requisite ten hours of sleep.

Today, however, the latter rule was broken. And since the rule was broken, it went without saying that the former rule was broken as well. A young girl, with lovely red hair, dressed in green, sat forlornly at the table, by the time operating hours had finished, without having paid or finishing the meal she had ordered.

She was about to go and politely shoo her out despite the fact that the girl's meal was untouched save for a few measly bites, when the boy went to speak to her. It was only for a few minutes, but whatever the boy said brightened her up, and after a while, she left, much happier than she was before. She heard – from fragments of conversation – that the girl was waiting for a boy who she secretly adored, but he never showed up.

Mrs. Chan felt almost sorry for her, but not quite. After all, the girl had broken her two rules. Of course, the former rule was soon remedied, but the girl was still there after hours, and that was still a big no-no.

The girl appeared nearly every day after that, and despite not breaking any of the rules after that, she still continued to flout the latter rule. She'd stay during the evenings to right about closing time, and then go outside to wait for the boy. From what she'd gathered, the girl had started dating the secretly adored boy, and they were a couple. Sometimes she'd be together with a boy she didn't recognize with short dark hair and pale skin (who she supposed was the girl's secretly adored crush turned boyfriend), and whenever the boy served them, they'd have a conversation and the two would laugh, while the boy remained deadpan as ever.

But most of the time the girl came alone, without her new boyfriend, and when the boy would serve her, she'd say something to him and strike up a conversation with him. It usually ended with her smiling and/or laughing, while the boy's lips would imperceptibly twitch.

If she didn't know better, the girl would come over just for the boy, and the boy seemed to like it. Seemed? Well, he seemed pretty comfortable around her; he wasn't just a waiter to her.

He was a friend, maybe more. Obviously, he'd meant a lot to her, especially since she began coming over every night he had a shift at the Paper Lantern.

"She's pretty," she remarked offhandedly in Mandarin to the boy one day.

The boy shrugged.

"Why don't you date her?"

"What's with the third degree?" He asked, with his accented Mandarin.

"No need to get so defensive, Warren."

"Usually you're not such a busybody," he grumbled, before returning to his moody, introverted behavior and silently finished his duties for the night. Before he left, he told her, "We're just friends. Besides, she's dating Stronghold."

Mrs. Chan refused to take a relationship where the girl hung out more with the boy over her own boyfriend and supposedly best friend seriously. She knew this for a fact. After all, when Warren asked where her boyfriend was, she'd tell him, oh, he wasn't around, he was doing something for the school. Or for the people of Maxville. Never for her, it seemed.

One particularly fine March day, she saw her sitting forlornly, much like she did so many months ago. But now, instead of waiting until closing up time, the boy went directly over to her as soon as he was free and asked her where her boyfriend was.

"The student council wanted something urgent and you know Will. He always needs to help someone."

"But on your birthday? That sucks."

Mrs. Chan knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but by now she couldn't help it. She was appalled that the girl was alone on her birthday, and also at Warren's blunt tone.

The girl sighed. "Tell me about it."

"I'm not going to tell you crap like 'True course of love ne'er did run smooth' or 'With great power comes great responsibility', you know, but look at it this way: love is accepting other people's faults and ignoring them anyway."

The girl managed to give a watery smile. "Thanks Warren."

"And your lucky numbers are 3, 14, 16, 22 and 23."

The girl shook her head, unwanted laughter rippling through her, while Warren excused himself on the pretext of serving other customers. By the time it was closing time, Warren had finished all his duties and was about to go meet the girl outside when Mrs. Chan grabbed his arm and asked him, "Why did you tell her the wrong fortune?"

She knew that there was no such fortune, for she had baked those fortune cookies herself.

Warren, expressionless as ever, raised an eyebrow. "It's what she needed to hear."

"And how often do you tell her what she needs to hear instead of what's in her fortune cookie?"

"Every time she opens a fortune cookie."

In surprise, she dropped Warren's hand. Shrugging off this conversation as another one of Mrs. Chan's eccentricities, Warren thought no more of the exchange and went out to walk the girl home. Either Warren cared greatly about the girl, or the girl was oblivious to what her fortune cookies really said and willingly trusted the usually sullen, angry boy.

Mrs. Chan thought it was a bit of both.


End file.
